Dust in the Wind
by Sailor Rogue
Summary: A story about the character Dust from New Xmen and how I would see her written into Xmen: Evolution. Ch. 2: Sooraya's parents find out the truth. But will she stay or will she go?
1. Introduction: Meet Sooraya

**Author's disclaimer:** I don't own X-men: Evolution or any of the characters from the X-men world. If I did, I wouldn't be posting my stories on :P

This is the introduction (and introspection) of the character "Dust" from New X-men into the world of X-men: Evolution.

**Notes:** words in between -dashes- are spoken in Afghani Persian.

words in _italics _are thoughts.

* * *

"Those Xavier kids have it so easy!" said the young Afghani girl as she threw down the newspaper article about the band of teenage mutant superheroes. 

"Sooraya! Dinner!" shouted a young girl from below.

"OK! Just a second!" she bellowed back.

_I mean, at least they have each other. They have somewhere they belong, people like them to make them feel like they're NOT freaks. I...I can't even tell my parents the truth. They'd disown me for sure. Or worse...send me 'back home'. Actually, given the conditions there, they probably wouldn't. Oh God, what am I to do?_

Sooraya got up from her bed, walked downstairs and sat down to dinner with her family.

_Everyday is a struggle. It's not easy being a minority here in the US. But after September 11th, it's been even harder being a Muslim **and** Afghani. And then, just a week ago, I find out I'm a mutant, too. I have enough angst to have my own teenage drama show._

_I'm not against who I am. I love my religion and I fully embrace my ethnicity. I'm fortunate that we live in such a diverse area of California, and with so many other Afghani families nearby. There are so many mixed cultures at school that I usually don't have a problem. But still, there are ignorant people out there who hate my faith and my culture. Every now and then I'll get stupid questions like "Are you Osama bin Laden's niece?" or "Do you wear that in the shower?"_

_And now there's a new problem I have to face, another part of me that people don't see and that I'm afraid to show. I haven't even told my best friend, Asma, that I'm a mutant. I don't know how she'd react to that and I'm afraid of losing her friendship. I suppose it would be a test of how strong our friendship really is, if she'd still accept me and everything, but...I'm too afraid to even try. After all, how would I react if the tables had been turned? I'd like to think I'd be supportive and love her no matter what, but I guess I'll never know. _

-Sooraya, you're so quiet. Is something wrong?- her mother asked.

_I'm a mutant. Just say it: I'm...a...Mut...ant_

-No, mom, I just have...a lot on my mind, that's all.-

_UGH! I wish I could just come out and say it end this! But then I'm so afraid of anyone, especially my family, finding out. I'm so afraid of what they'll say or do if they knew._

-Mother, may I be excused?-

-But you hardly ate!-

-I'm sorry. I just don't really have an appetite today.-

-You've been like this all week. If there's something bothering you, please tell me.-

-No, it's nothing, really,- she lied, on the verge of tears. She ran upstairs before her family can see her eyes water and before she could see the worried look on their faces.

Several minutes had passed, during which the young olive-skinned brunette had been writing her thoughts fervently in her journal, when she is interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Who is it?"

"It's me, Samira. Open up!"

"Uh! Siblings! Why couldn't they just stop with me?" She opened the door to see her 9-year old sister looking more serious than usual. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"I don't know, but you better get dressed and come down quick. Someone's here talking to mama and papa...about YOU!"

Startled, she changed into a long loose blouse and a pair of jeans. She struggled as she tried to pin a matching scarf on her head, but her nerves made it harder than usual. "Come on! Why can't I put it on right! Uh, there." She put on a pair of slippers and ran down and her heart jumped when she saw bald man in a wheelchair sitting in the living room with her parents. There was also a young auburn-haired girl with two white "streaks" in front, about Sooraya's age sitting next to the man and across from her parents.

"Hello, Sooraya, I'm Professor Charles Xavier..."

* * *

To be continue...? 

Maybe, depending on level of response. I just thought this up and wrote this chapter today, so, we'll see if I write more.


	2. The truth comes out

**Author's notes:** Dust is a relatively new character featured mostly in the New X-men series. Since I don't read the series, I only took what I gathered from the 'net about her and am really just making up the rest. In fact, only her (and her mother's) name(s), mutant power, culture and religion are canon.

If any of her parents' lines are grammatically incorrect, it's on purpose since they are first-generation immigrants. After writing this, I realized this is a new challenge for the recruiters, since they've never had to deal with it before. If you're a second-generation American, or if you've seen movies like 'My Big Fat Greek Wedding' or 'Joy Luck Club' (or if you read this fic ;), you'll understand why it's so different. I tried to keep it as short as possible, but wanted to keep all important elements in the dialogue. Anyway, enough talk. ENJOY!

Key: --around talking-- means they are speaking their native language, which I've chosen to be Afghani Persian

_italics_ are Sooraya's thoughts.

* * *

"Yes, I know. Oh gosh! Please tell me you didn't tell them!"

"Not yet, but I believe you should."

-Sooraya, what is he talking about? Who is this man? Are you in trouble?- her mother asked frantically.

_Well, Thank God my parents don't read or watch much American news._

--No, I'm not in trouble. He's just...no one. He's no one.--

"Sooraya, I will not be lied to my face. If there's something wrong you have to tell us so we can help you fix it. If you're in trouble, you need to tell us, now!" Her father said sternly.

--But, you don't understand! You CAN'T help. Neither you nor mother can fix it,- she said as she broke into tears.

"Mr. and Mrs. Qadir, please, if I may. Sooraya has a special 'gift'. Like many others, she's afraid of telling you the truth for fear of backlash.

"Mr. Xavier, with all due respect, we are Afghani Muslims living in America. We are knowing fully the fear of backlash. Our daughter should not be afraid to tell us anything."

"Papa, what he's trying to tell you is...is that I'm..."

_Just say it!_

"I'm a mutant." No sooner had she spoken the words than tears began falling rapidly out of her eyes. "I'm sorry! I...I wanted to tell you sooner, but... Please don't hate me! I didn't choose to be like this."

A gasp was heard from the stairs. "You're a mutant! Oh my gosh! I can't believe it! Ha! I told you you were a freak!"

"Why you little..." Sooraya said as she was about to chase after her the oldest of her siblings, who had been eavesdropping this whole time.

"Girl, don't listen ta him. Little brothers are just good at being annoying."

"Sooraya, forget him now. We will deal with him later. Please, explain to us what is this 'mutant'? Is it an abnormal development? Is there a treatment?" her mother asked frantically.

"It's not a disease and she's not a freak."

"Rogue's right, Sooraya. You're just...different. But, I can help you to learn about your powers, to control them, and to fully embrace them."

"I know. I know about your school and about your students. But, I don't think my parents would agree. To be honest with you, I don't even know how comfortable I feel about it."

"Wait, please. Mr. Xavier, I'm afraid my wife and I are not very familiar with this problem. What is wrong with our daughter?"

"Nothing is wrong with her, Mr. Qadir. She simply has a special power."

"Like a talent?" Sooraya's mother asked.

_My gosh! I don't know which is worse! Having had to hide it from or having to explain it to them!_

"Mama, Papa...remember Tuesday night when you were looking for me...but couldn't find me anywhere, until I 'myseriously' came from the kitchen?"

"Yes. You had just gone up to your room moments before. It was very odd."

"Well, my power is how I did that. See...I dunno how to explain how exactly I did it. Maybe I just better show you. _God, I can't believe I'm doing this. _I think you all better stand back though."

Each person took a step, or wheel, back and gave Sooraya some room. In a flash, she was gone and in a matter of seconds, she came walking down the stairs. Her mother and father stood speechless.

-"Sooraya! How did you...that was like...a miracle!"- her mother exclaimed, barely finding the words in her own language to express herself.

"Hold on now, Mirah. Mr Xavier, what is your purpose here? You came into our home, revealed to us that our daughter has this strange ability, now what is it you want? You want to take her away from us to a special facility?"

"Mr. Qadir, my school is a haven for people like Sooraya. There, they learn to control their abilities and also use them for the benefit of mankind. There are mutants there, like Rogue here, who are Sooraya's age who can help her adjust to this new discovery."

"And what about her academic education?"

"She'll be enrolled in a local high school that the others also attend."

"And she will leave her friends and family. I'm sorry, but, please excuse us, I need a moment alone to speak with my wife and daughter about this." The three made their way into the kitchen. -Sooraya, I do not like this idea. You don't need to go to new place and enroll in a special school. You belong here with your family and friends.-

-Maybe this place will be good for her. She will be with others like her.-

-They are **not** like her. They are not like **us**. -

-But they're like **me**, father.-

-They have different beliefs, different customs.

-Father, we are in America. We are surrounded by these different beliefs and customs. I go to an American PUBLIC school and deal with it everyday.-

--But it is not the same as living with them. Trust me, I have had more experience! And I will not stand here and have my oldest child be taken away and treated like she's different from everyone else.-

--Father, don't you see, I **am** different than everyone else. I've never asked you for anything...well, except for that iPod...but PLEASE, let me at least try it for a short while. It's a three-day weekend, I can go and be back in time for school on Tuesday. Let me just...--

--Who will help me with the store? Who will help your mother with the chores and the other children?-- Sooraya dropped her head in guilt and sadness, knowing it was impossible for him to say yes.

--She is young. Let her enjoy her youth. I can handle a weekend alone. And Sami can help you with the store, he needs to learn some responsibility.--

--I...I don't know.-- Sooraya knew this meant he was weakening, but didn't dare lift her head, lest he change his mind.

_Go, mom!_

--Tahir, do you want to look back some day and regret not letting her go? We do not know how to deal with her problem.-- Sooraya blushed uncomfortably at her mother's use of words. --I mean, her gift. Let her explore this gift that God has given her. This whole week, she has not been our vibrant daughter. Maybe a weekend with others like her will help us have our daughter back, help her love who she is. Trust your daughter and her judgment.--

With a heavy sigh and very reluctantly, he nodded in agreement. Sooraya raised her head in disbelief and smiled the first time this whole night. As her father's back was turned, she gave her mother a quick but firm hug before exiting together to rejoin the others.

"Ok, Mr. Xavier. She can go. But only under the condition that she is brought back to us by Monday."

* * *

You see kids, as a wise woman once said "The man may be the head of the house, but the woman is the neck..." . :) 

Thanks to those who read and reviewed. It was greatly appreciated. :)


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